


Humble Beginnings

by OwlosaurusRex



Series: Metal Gear Drabbles [1]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Costa Rica '74, Drabbles, Early Medic, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6222070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlosaurusRex/pseuds/OwlosaurusRex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Cute drabbles about Medic cause I love him. Little farm boy Medic loves his animals.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cute drabbles about Medic cause I love him. Little farm boy Medic loves his animals.

It's the 1940's. A young boy is working hard on a dusty farm tucked away between fields of beans and roaming cattle. The farmhouse is old and needs a new coat of paint. He and his older siblings will have to paint it before their father comes home from the war. His sister Susan is the oldest and doesn't mind helping with the hard and dirty work in the barns on top of her daily household duties. Their mother commutes each morning to the nearest city to work, to support the war effort and bring in much needed income. Daniel and Susan won't explain to the boy what it means when their mother stops going into town, when she says with tears in her eyes that there's a new baby on the way. It won't be until his father returns and beats the city shop-owner half to death that the boy realizes something was wrong. But the family accepts little newborn Isaac nonetheless.

Their father comes home without his right hand and it takes months until he can complete his daily tasks again. It’ll take years until he’s finally comfortable around his family. Two more sisters join the family in quick succession followed by another brother who doesn't live past his first year. There were no more children after that, their mother couldn't handle it.

As a boy he thought that perhaps veterinary studies would suit him but after seeing his father and the other war veterans he decided that being a physician would have a more significant impact. A battle-field physician. The military would provide him with the education and independence he needed to make a difference. He joins the army without much fanfare and young Vernon Mallory II steps into the world of war without looking back.

It would be years of hard, bloody work until he hears the legends and longer still until he meets the man himself. It takes little convincing to join Big Boss’ growing army and leave the corruption and dirty dealings of the US army behind. Vernon knew next to nothing about Costa Rica and certainly hadn’t imagined he’d ever live there but he wouldn't turn down the opportunity and soon enough he was sweating away in a small wooden shack stitching up wounds and treating common diseases. He chose this life and couldn't regret it. He worked for the legendary Big Boss, after all. You couldn't do better than that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think all of these are going to be just short little scenes. Nothing too spectacular.

A dusty farmhouse with green shutters, a big brown barn to its right and a crab apple tree in the front yard. Medic wasn't sure why the image came to mind but it did in quick, fragmented pieces, forming a faded picture of a life he sometimes forgot was his own. A life touched with rustic charm and a simplicity he didn't care for.

Crouching in the thick heat of the Costa Rican jungles his hands slick with blood, Medic found it odd that the images would come to him then and there while he leaned over the shaking body of a man he hardly knew, a comrade with fear in his eyes.

“Miller, my tools, quickly,” Medic shouted over the crackle of gunfire and the cries of those he couldn't save. He couldn't think of them now. He couldn't think of _anything_ now except for the warm entrails against his palms as he struggled to hold them in place. The soldier opened his mouth but his screams were wet with blood and the insistent rain. “Miller!”

Medic looked up from his patient for only a moment, watching the Commander rummage through his medical supplies with numb fingers before finally producing a small kit. He opened it with a surprising amount of care which Medic appreciated. If they lost his needles or other instruments in the mud there would be little hope of finding them.

“Here.” Miller thrust the kit at him and made the mistake of looking over the frames of his wet aviators at the writhing man. Medic could see the hope drain from the Commander’s face.

“Good, now hold him steady, I have to try to stop the bleeding,” Medic said, reaching for his tools and nearly falling forward when a mortar shell burst dangerously close to them, tossing up dirt and debris that rained down on their hiding place among the trees.

“Fuck.” Medic stared at the mess beneath him in the aftermath, his ears ringing and hand sinking in the mud to keep him steady. Miller managed to keep his tools in the blast and Medic could hear him shouting but his words were lost in aching ears.

The Commander looked ready to do just about anything Medic asked, but it didn’t matter now. He recognized this as one of those moments in life where there was nothing he could do. Blood and dirt mixed with the man’s intestines and Medic found himself picking a stone out and tossing it aside while the soldier’s struggles grew weaker and he choked on blood and fear. Even if Medic managed to stop the bleeding, patch him up, with all of the debris he would be--infection was imminent and--if he’d had a damned tent or _umbrella_  even he might have been able to--

“Medic?” Commander Miller’s voice was a distant sound struggling to be heard over the insistent ringing. Medic didn't look up and instead focused on the dying man’s face, holding his wide-eyed stare for as long as possible, watching them unfocus and fade. It didn't take long and Medic was grateful for that at least.

“What are you doing?! You have to stop the bleeding he’s--” Miller’s voice grew louder still, only to sink into the ruddy mud like his knees.

Rocking back on his heels, Medic listened to the bursts of gunfire grow fewer and fewer while the ringing subsided and Miller moved beside him. The Commander didn't say anything more and Medic was grateful for that, too. Medic wasn’t sure he had the answers Miller wanted.

When the sounds of battle faded away entirely, the two men were left with nothing but the sound of rain and an inexplicable feeling of disappointment. This wasn't the first time Medic had lost someone on the battlefield and it wouldn't be the last but he made sure to look at the young man’s face, to commit it to memory so he could remember the fallen soldier when it was unlikely anyone else would.

“He...he was too far gone,” Miller said and Medic glanced over at him. The Commander was drenched, his uniform clinging to his body, his hair plastered to his face, and his aviators rendered all but useless. He looked a lot younger like this, Medic thought, but perhaps it was the look on his face, the hint of sadness that softened his features. It was rare to see the Commander without some mask of an inflated ego or the firm persona of a drill sergeant, but when you did it offered a slight glimpse into the real man behind those glasses. Medic sighed and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think there was anything we could do.”

“No, there wasn’t,” Medic said slowly, still watching Miller from the corner of his eye as the Commander slumped back in the mud and winced, remembering his own aches and pains. “Perhaps in a surgery room, but not out here.”

Medic turned toward Miller, eyeing him more closely now for signs of injury but the Commander hadn’t looked away from their dead comrade.

“So it was useless from the beginning.” Medic could see the tension in Miller’s jaw, the grinding of his teeth and mounting frustration that came with this sort of defeat. “No. we could have done more.”

“It’s unlikely.”

“Then why even try in the first place? Should have just...” Miller grasped for words and Medic looked down at himself, at the mess he’d made. He was wasting time here.

“Put him out of his misery?” Medic started to unbutton his jacket with cold fingers and looked up at Miller again in time to catch the peak of his anger, but he continued before Miller could muster some heated response.

“It’s my job to help our men, not kill them.” Though Medic admitted that he should have known from the beginning, should have left the Commander to tend to the soldier’s last moments and used that time to help others. He was off his game.

Miller huffed and looked out at the battlefield, his left arm resting in his lap. “We could have just put him out of his misery if you knew it was hopeless,” he insisted but it was obvious his anger was waning and Medic’s logic was sinking in.

“Is that really what you wanted me to do?” Medic arched a brow but the Commander wasn’t looking at him anymore, he was searching for someone else among the soldiers picking their way through the mud. “I prefer not to play God if I can help it.”

Miller scoffed at that and looked down at the medical kit still in his hands. Despite his frustrations he was careful with it, closing it tightly and returning it to Medic’s bag.

“Whatever. There’s nothing to be done about it now.”

Medic nodded and finally succeeded in peeling his wet coat off his shoulders to cover the poor soldier and keep his gut from falling out when they ultimately picked him up to bring him home.

They sat in silence after that, Medic taking a moment or two to gather his wits and Miller simply watching him before climbing to his feet. His boots slipped in the mud and Medic didn’t miss the growing stain on Miller’s sleeve but he didn’t mention it. The Commander wouldn’t take kindly to his poking and prodding, at least not until the others were cared for.

“You should go find him. Big Boss, I mean. Make sure the mission was a success,” Medic offered as he reached for his bag and got to his feet. He could hear their men shouting and knew that he had work to do but he hesitated when Miller didn’t move right away.

The Commander looked frozen in place, his mind probably running wild with thoughts and doubts about his decision to go through with this particularly risky support operation. Medic wanted to offer some sort of reassurance but knew it wouldn’t do any good, not until Miller had a chance to calm down and think things through rationally.

For being such a smart and resourceful commander, he sure was emotional. The thought actually brought a brief smile to Medic’s face. Miller was still a kid in that regard, it seemed. He’d have to grow up sooner or later, though, or these kinds of losses would weigh him down.

“I’m sure the mission was a success,” Miller said after a significant pause and stepped out of the small dip between the trees. “Yeah, it definitely was.”

Medic didn’t respond and Miller didn’t seem to care, probably already three steps ahead of himself in planning his explanation to the Boss. Snake probably wouldn’t be happy to see that Miller had been in the line of fire but that wasn’t Medic’s problem. He had more important things to worry about.

Medic stepped out of the trees after Miller and gave the commander’s shoulder a pat as he walked by. It was a simple gesture but one the medic hoped would relay some sense of his support if nothing else. It’d been a long day and Medic knew that a little support could make all the difference.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little hesitant to write from Kaz's point of view but I hope I managed to capture his character well enough. Writing an angry Kaz is a lot easier for me than writing a flirty happy Kaz for whatever reason so 1974 Kaz will be a bit of a challenge.

What a fucking day. Well, two days, really. Kaz couldn't believe that such a simple support mission could turn so sour. The plan had been simple, clean, efficient. Pick no more than ten men for dispatch, two jeeps, and a rendezvous location far enough out of the jungle to avoid potential ambush but with enough greenery to offer cover if needed. He’d sent men to map the route there, potential routes back, and to poke around for signs of enemy movement. Sure they’d noticed a few trails, heard a thing or two about men in the woods, but that wasn't surprising. Kaz knew there were enemy soldiers nearby, that’s why he was sending the support team to begin with; to help the Boss back home after nearly two weeks in the field. He’d known there was an enemy presence in the area but he hadn't expected _that_ many soldiers. He’d been careless on that front, hadn't gathered enough intel and thought their men could handle combat if the need arose. But that many soldiers stationed along the road as if they were _waiting_ for them….it was a big miscalculation, bringing his men into such a situation was a mistake, and very nearly a disaster.

The look on Snake’s face when Kaz found him on the battlefield had been almost frightening. To see such obvious irritation replace the man’s usual stoic mask was surprising in and of itself, but then to have to sit in their shared cabin and listen to his scolding lecture (because that’s what it was whether Snake admitted it or not) had left Kaz feeling foolish and ashamed.

He’d fucked up. He was willing to own the fact that he fucked up even before the Boss drilled it into his head, but after looking at the medical team’s reports, it really hit home just how badly things could have gone. They were lucky, if he dared use the word, and suffered only three casualties. The Boss had made a point of bringing this up more than once during their little “discussion” and had made it very clear that while Kaz’s plan had been stupid, what was worse was Kaz’s decision to join the dispatch team.

Kaz didn't have a very good excuse for that, or at least not one that Snake appreciated. He’d been cooped up in their small cluster of cabins for far too long and having not seen the Boss in over a week he’d found himself pretty eager to get out on the field. Maybe that eagerness was what screwed him over, distracted him maybe, but he couldn't help it. Lock anyone up in the same routine in the same few cabins for over a _year_ and they’re bound to go looking for some freedom. But Kaz wasn't looking for excuses. At this point he was looking for a distraction.

His head ached from the stress of it all and he sought some kind of relief in the muddy streets of their camp. The rain had stopped by then, offering a clear view of the stars overhead but doing little to ease the ever-present humidity that had his shirt sticking to his back after only a short walk. The camp was quiet at this time of night but Kaz had little trouble finding the night patrol splashing through puddles as they made their rounds thanks to the outrageously bright medical hall. The building shown like a flickering beacon and while the light above the building’s entrance usually stayed on, it was surprising to see so much activity at such a late hour. It seemed like their small medical team was still sorting things out from their earlier mishap. Kaz felt shame trying to claw it’s way back to the forefront of his mind but managed to push it away with thoughts of visiting the staff. He hadn't been in to see them since they’d arrived back on base and he felt like paying them a visit would definitely help raise morale.

With a new goal in mind, Kaz made his way to the building, practically drawn to it like one of the many insects buzzing hopelessly around the porch light, and as he got closer he could make out people in the windows and a hazy shadow stepping off the porch to light a cigarette.

The small red glow was a bit of a shocker given how adamant most of the medical staff was that smoking was a death sentence. Kaz had to wonder who dared to smoke just outside the door knowing full well that they were at risk of a long-winded health lecture at any moment. He assumed it was some new recruit or maybe one of the injured men from their mission who’d managed to sneak out long enough to get a hit or two, but hadn’t for a moment expected to see a familiar face look up at him as he got closer.

Medic looked just as surprised to see Kaz and lifted a hand in an awkward wave. From where he stood the light cast sharp shadows over his face and made him look a little older than he was, a little weary.

“What are you doing out so late?” Medic shifted his weight from one foot to the other so he leaned further into the light and Kaz could get a good look at him. He wore a pair of scrubs touched here and there with blood and other stains that spoke volumes as to why _he_ was up. Kaz slowed as he reached the porch and eyed the stains before answering.

“You know, just trying to clean up as much of my mess as I can,” Kaz said trying to joke though his laugh fell flat and left him avoiding Medic’s gaze in the awkward silence that followed.

“Hm. I’m sure that could wait till morning...or do you need something?” Medic’s tired expression changed in that moment; blue eyes narrowing slightly as he looked him over with a tight frown.

“Huh, no, no I got checked out earlier. I don’t need anything.”

“Oh.”

Kaz watched as Medic took another drag and the tension left him in a thick stream of smoke.

“Didn’t know you smoked. I didn’t take you for a hypocrite.” This time Kaz’s joking won a small chuckle and Medic flashed him a smile.

“I don’t smoke.”

“Yeah? A hypocrite and a liar.”

“I don’t smoke regularly, I mean. It’s..a situational thing,” Medic said. “Something to do when a situation calls for it.”

“Situational?” Kaz glanced at the door to the medical hall as if he could see through it and watch the staff working away into the night. “And this is the kind of situation that justifies a bit of lung cancer, huh?”

Medic’s smile grew a little and he hummed thoughtfully. “I guess so.”

“Doesn’t sound like you understand it anymore than I do.”

“All I know is sometimes you just need _something_ to take the edge off. Can’t drink on the job so…” Medic held up his cigarette and rolled it between his fingers a moment before reaching out to offer it to Kaz.

“Hey, I don’t want to take away from your stress-relief,” Kaz said and waved off the cigarette though Medic assured him he wouldn’t smoke the whole thing himself anyway. Company seemed more beneficial than nicotine. Ultimately Kaz gave in and took the cigarette between his fingers.

“Hand-rolled? What, you have a little something extra in here?” Kaz teased and won a short laugh in response.

“I’m sure you of all people would know if I did.”

Kaz grinned before taking a hit and laughing through the smoke.

“There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun sometimes. Job’s stressful,” he said and stepped a bit closer as he passed Medic the cigarette. “But you’re pretty clean-cut, huh?

Medic took a moment to respond, seeming to mull over Kaz’s words.

“You think so?”

“You haven’t exactly given me any reason to think otherwise. Always pretty quiet and even-keeled--like some kind of big brother or something.”

Medic looked surprised at that and his smile was decidedly more awkward than before. “A big brother…”

“Yeah. Demanding at times, understanding at others, and usually ignoring the younger recruits as much as possible. Isn’t that what a big brother does?” Kaz paused long enough to accept the cigarette when Medic offered it to him. “Then again, I always heard that big brothers were supposed to be mean, but what do I know?”

“You don’t have siblings?”

Kaz looked at Medic over the rims of his glasses as he took a drag and shook his head. “Nah. It’s just me.”

“Hm.”

“I mean, there’s you, MSF’s resident big brother.”

Medic laughed nervously and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah...don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” Kaz frowned a little and Medic took his time when the cigarette was handed to him, taking in a deep drag and holding it before letting it out in a plume of smoke that had him coughing.

“I gave up my brotherly duties a long time ago. I’d rather not pick them up again.”

“Ah, so you had siblings.” Kaz grinned at that particular bit of information, as if he’d found out some kind of secret, though Medic’s amusement put a bit of a damper on his feelings of accomplishment.

“Yeah, a couple, once upon a time,” Medic said with a small nod.

“What was it like?”

“What do you mean?” Medic offered up the dwindling nub of his cigarette for Kaz to finish it off.

“You know, what was it like having a little kid on your heels all the time?” Kaz asked, finding himself a little more interested than he’d like to admit. Medic looked a little confused at the question but managed a response anyway.

“Uh...I mean it was fine.”

“I take it you weren’t one of those mean brothers, then?”

“Nah, not me. At least I hope not. We all got along pretty well, ya know? Daniel was the only one who had some rough patches but...” Medic paused and shrugged a heavy shoulder. “Can’t hold it against him.”

Medic looked at Kaz then and seemed a little confused to find the Commander so interested, which, in turn, made Kaz feel a bit self-conscious. He took a final drag on the cigarette and tossed it down to crush it under his boot.

“Your, uh...your profile doesn’t say much beyond your experience on the field and previous affiliations so, ya know, it’s interesting to hear where different soldiers come from. We’ve got a pretty diverse group here with all kinds of backgrounds,” Kaz said and felt a little silly for asking so many questions in the first place.

“You want to hear about my life before the battlefield?” Medic offered a bit of a teasing smile and Kaz made a point of not noticing it. “That was a long time ago. I always figured you let that die when you joined the MSF…”

Kaz frowned when Medic’s voice drawled off and left them to think about Big Boss’ questionable recruiting practices. The whole process of picking up soldiers and “convincing” them to join had really bothered Kaz at first--hell, everything about Big Boss and his army had bothered him when he first joined--but as time went on it just became part of the routine. Part of the system. He didn’t like to think about it too deeply.

“How’s your arm?” Kaz nearly jumped when Medic spoke next, closer to him this time and reaching out to take Kaz’s wrist in his hand. Medic was already tugging his sleeve up to have a look before Kaz had a chance to say anything.

“It’s fine. I got it stitched up earlier,” Kaz said, trying to glance down at his arm but getting stuck halfway when Medic leaned in closer to get a better look at the bandaging. It was a little difficult not to stare when the man was that close. Medic wasn't anything spectacular, an average man by most accounts, and yet Kaz had to marvel at his eyes. They were a simple shade of blue but they had a certain depth to them, a hint of all that he'd seen and experienced, that made it difficult to look away. He had eyes that told stories and reflected a far more complex personality than Medic let show. They made Kaz wonder what he was _really_  like.

Medic hummed in acknowledgement but started to peel back the bandages anyway, obviously uninterested or unaware of Kaz's scrutiny.

“Hey, I told you it’s fine. Unless you don’t trust the other doctors to do their work.”

Medic arched a brow at Kaz’s insistence but was otherwise unmoved. “That’s not it. I just like being thorough,” he said and looked up to eye Kaz a moment before letting his arm go gently. “Besides, it looks like you could use a new dressing.” Medic nodded at the front door and looked at him expectantly.

“It’s fine,” Kaz insisted but it wasn’t much use. Medic looked entirely unimpressed with Kaz’s stubbornness and held Kaz’s gaze steadfastly. Those fucking eyes, though. Kaz felt like they might swallow him whole if he wasn't careful.

“Fine! Okay...you win.” Kaz tossed his hands up in defeat and glared at Medic when he had the audacity to smile.

“Good. It will only take a minute. Besides, you’re not exactly busy right now.”

Well, Kaz couldn’t really argue with that. He made his way, however reluctantly, into the medical hall and cringed at the sudden brightness inside. The sterile lighting was harsh and buzzed overhead, dazzling his eyes even with his aviators on. Medic paused a few steps ahead of him and looked a bit concerned but Kaz recovered quickly enough to avoid having to answer any questions.

“Right, so...where do you want me?” Kaz looked around at the beds set up in neat rows running along the length of the hall, a number of which had their curtains drawn and doctors hovering about them speaking in hushed tones.

“Down here’s fine,” Medic said and touched Kaz’s arm softly to get his attention and lead him down the row furthest to the right. They passed by one of the occupied beds and Kaz got a peek of someone inside with a thick wad of gauze taped to their head. Kaz had read the reports, knew who was injured and how, but seeing it in person was always difficult. He looked at Medic and focused on his broad back in some frail attempt at disregarding everything else.

“Here, just take a seat and I’ll get some new bandages.” Medic stopped at one of the beds and waved for Kaz to sit down. “It doesn’t hurt? Or, not badly at any rate?”

Kaz did as he was told, casting glances around the room as he shook his head in response. “It’s fine.”

Medic paused a moment as if he might ask something more but decided against it. “Alright. I’ll be right back.”

Though Medic was only gone a moment, his absence left Kaz to realize just how late it was and how tired he was getting. He knew he should head back to the cabin and try to get some sleep but after seeing Snake’s disappointment he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be in the same room as the Boss. At least not for a day or two. Thinking about it just brought up a new rush of emotions--guilt, shame, all sorts of things--that would only get in the way of his work. He’d have to work harder, do better next time. Redeem himself.

“Kaz?”

Kaz jumped a little at the touch on his shoulder and looked up to see Medic smiling down at him apologetically.

“Sorry, you looked like you were dozing off a little. I’ll make this quick.” He stepped around and pulled up a chair to sit in front of him; laying his materials on the bed beside Kaz. “Your arm.” Medic held his hand out for it and was exceedingly careful when he started to peel off the bandages. Seeing such gentleness in a soldier was so strange and maybe a bit refreshing, if Kaz stopped to think about it. But mostly strange. Medic treated him with such care, glancing up now and again to be sure he wasn’t causing any pain, and Kaz marveled at how fitting his name was. Unlike Spider or Rhino or any of the other names assigned to their recruits, Medic was a name that encapsulated a personality. The man had been with Big Boss long before Kaz even realized Snake existed and he’d persevered as one of their senior members of medical staff and one of Boss’ most trusted soldiers. The Boss might not openly choose “favorites” but he knew his men’s strengths and weaknesses and who could be trusted to get things done. Even the other soldiers seemed to like him--MSF’s big brother.

“There you go.”

Kaz looked down in surprise when Medic leaned back and admired his handiwork.

“That was fast.”

“It was only a new bandage. I took a look at the stitching and everything looks good. That being said, it’s a pretty deep laceration. You’d best keep an eye on it and lay off the CQC for a while,” Medic said as he wadded up the old bandages and tossed them in a bin near the bed.

“Heh, yeah. I don’t think I’d want to roll around in the sand with this anyway.”

“Good.” Medic smiled at him, a small lopsided grin, and nodded slowly. “Well, you should go get some sleep, Commander. It’s been a long day for all of us but that isn’t going to stop tomorrow from coming.” Medic got to his feet then and rubbed at his neck before nodding back towards the door. “Get outta here.”

“Hey, hey! Force me to come in here then push me right back out?” Kaz huffed in mock agitation and slid off the bed to head towards the door.

“I like to get my patients out of here as quickly as possible,” Medic said.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kaz waved off his explanation and Medic rolled his eyes.

“Goodnight Commander,” he said and made a point of watching Kaz head out the door.

Outside, a stiff breeze had started up and Kaz could feel more rain blowing in. He hovered on the porch a few moments and thought he could still catch a whiff of cigarette smoke though it was unlikely it was theirs.

“Goodnight, huh? Maybe for somebody,” Kaz mumbled to himself but couldn’t help the smile on his face as he stepped out into the mud and made his way back to his cabin; fully aware of the nice cozy bed waiting for him there as well as Snake’s powerful presence. But everything would work out. He’d _make_ it work. That was his job after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> If you liked this and feel like supporting your friendly neighborhood Owl, I've got a Ko-fi and all donations are greatly, greatly appreciated! Thanks again~
> 
> I have a link to my ko-fi and other stuff on my tumblr:  
> http://owlosaurusrex.tumblr.com/


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